Love is Forever
by cyberelf
Summary: A once solitary Pokemon discovers his humanity as he learns to love another. Based on Beauty and the Beast, this is a tale of star-crossed lovers and the impossible romance that developed between them. I own neither Pokemon nor Beauty and the Beast.
1. Prologue

Love is Forever

_Prologue_

--

"We don't get many visitors in these parts," the old woman replied, tipping the teapot over the porcelain cup. "Seeing a new face is quite refreshing. Where did you say you were from again?"

Leila took the cup in her hands and leaned back on the wooden chair. She brushed her brown hair out of her face before blowing the steam off the surface of the liquid.

"Cerulean City," she replied. She grasped the cup with both hands, relishing in its warmth. At her feet, her Squirtle looked up at her hopefully, waiting patiently for her to drop a scrap of something edible.

"That's quite some distance from here," the woman commented, pouring herself a cup of tea. "What is a new trainer like you doing out this far?"

"I dunno," Leila answered. "I guess I was just so anxious to see the world that I never bothered to pause in my travels. I've never been out of Cerulean City. Everything I've seen is just so amazing." She smiled and took a sip of tea. "The world seems a lot bigger when you're actually exploring it." She continued. "Someday, I hope to see it all!"

The old woman laughed and set her cup down on the table. Leila looked at her quizzically.

"What's so funny?" She asked.

"Nothing," the woman replied, staring into the empty space in the room and fidgeting with a silver locket around her neck. "You just remind me of someone, that's all."

"Who?" Leila asked, now curious.

The woman shook her head and grabbed her cup again. "It doesn't matter," the woman answered. What was left of her smile vanished. "That person is long gone. God, what's it been? Twenty? Fifty? No. _Sixty_ years?"

"_Squirtle_?" Leila's Squirtle asked, looking puzzled.

"What are you talking about?" Leila asked, now very curious.

The woman sighed and set her cup on the table. After a pause, she looked up at Leila and asked, "have you ever heard the story of the loveless Pokemon?"

"The fairy tale?" Leila asked. "Of course, what kid hasn't? It's a classic story of a Pokemon who fell in love with a human but was unable to see his love fulfilled." She gave the woman a puzzled look. "Why do you ask?"

The old woman shook her head. She grasped the arms of her chair and hoisted herself to her feet. Leila quickly set her cup down and rushed to help her. The woman dismissed her assistance with a wave, and with trembling hands took a wool coat off a wooden peg next to her chair.

"Come with me," she said, gesturing the child to follow.

Leila and her Squirtle looked at each other in confusion, then looked back at the woman and followed her out the front door.

There was little that Leila could see beyond the woman's cottage. In the distance, she could see the lights from another cottage. Standing next to the little house against a darkened sky was a dying oak tree and a windmill. Leila looked at the sky, and could instantly tell that a storm was coming. The old woman's long grass and the stalks of corn in the other cottage's field blew back and forth in the damp breeze.

The woman turned and started down a dirt path leading toward the western horizon. Leila's Squirtle kept close to her heels, fearing the approaching storm. Leila wondered what was so important that made this frail woman so insistent on going out in weather like this.

"Where are we going?" Leila asked.

The woman said nothing and continued walking as fast as her aged bones could carry her. Leila looked around at the passing scenery. The longer they journeyed, the more barren the terrain became. At first there was nothing but cornfields, then it changed to fenced grazing fields. After a while, the fences vanished, and there was nothing but wild grasslands. A few Raticates by the side of the road stood up when they approached, and fled further into the grass as they passed. Leila's Squirtle looked up at her, tugged the edge of her coat, and looked longingly at where the Raticates had been before.

"Not now Squirtle," Leila replied, "let's see where this lady takes us first."

Her Squirtle sighed in disappointment and walked in silence beside its master.

A few minutes later, the sky churned, and a faint rumble of thunder escaped from the clouds. It was followed by the sound of neighing. Leila looked to her right and saw two Ponyta inside a fenced-in area run frantically back towards an open barn. Leila's Squirtle tugged her coat again and cowered near her leg in fear. She picked up the little creature and held it in her arms.

"It's okay Squirtle," she said, "it's just a little thunder."

She tried to take comfort in her own words, but was growing more concerned as the sky grew darker. She wondered where in the world the old woman was going, and why this couldn't wait until the storm passed.

After about ten more minutes of walking, her first question was answered. The dark outline of a windmill materialized on the horizon ahead of them. As they approached, Leila could see that there were no lights inside, and that the blades of the mill looked tattered and un-kept. The entire building looked run-down, and as they got closer, Leila could see that the entire mill was a mess. It was barely standing up, and looked like it could collapse at any moment. The ground around it was littered with stone, decayed timber, and shards of glass. In the dim light of twilight, Leila could tell that the mill had been burned.

The woman stopped walking when they were right in front of the mill and looked up at the decaying structure blankly. Leila let the silence drag on a bit, hoping she would say something. When she didn't, she asked the most pressing question first.

"What is this place?"

The woman didn't answer, but walked slowly around the mill. The old woman looked at the ground in a numb sadness, and occasionally ran her fingers along the windmill's wall. Leila followed the woman, hoping she would give her some answers soon.

Behind the windmill was a large rock that was in the natural shape of a reclined chair. Leila could barely tell what color the stone was, because it was almost entirely covered in lichen and paint.

"Do you have a flashlight?" the woman asked.

Startled and confused, Leila rummaged through her backpack until she found her flashlight. She placed it in the woman's outstretched hands.

"Look," the old woman said, shining the flashlight on the rock. "Look carefully."

Leila and her Squirtle approached the rock and squinted. The paint on the rock's surface was graffiti, some of it old and faded, some of it new and vibrant. There were hundreds of messages in different colors and handwritings, but they all said similar things, such as "together forever", "defy the rules", and "we remember you forever". The largest, most noticeable message was written in faded green and read "love is forever".

"What is this?" Leila asked.

The woman approached the rock and ran her fingers over the large, green message. "So true," she muttered softly.

"What is?" Leila asked, now desperate for an answer.

"This is where it happened," the old woman said, looking up at the sky. "Here, at this very mill, in this very village. Once a love story told in this village, now a fable read to children all over the world. Once a true romance, now reduced to a mere fairy tale."

"What are you talking about?" Leila asked again. "Are you still talking about that children's story about the loveless Pokemon?"

"Yes," the woman replied, finally giving Leila an answer.

"So, what you're saying is," Leila commented, "that the stories are true?"

"Yes," said the old woman, "quite. Except not the way you've heard it."

The clouds ceased their churning and began to part, signaling the premature end of the storm. Silver moonlight streamed through the hole in the clouds and bathed the windmill, giving it an eerie, haunted feeling.

"Sit down, child," the old woman said, "I'm going to tell you a story, a true story. It's a story that happened long ago, but recent enough to still be in an old woman's memory. It's a story that is fairy tale in nature, but is anything but a simple fable. This story is about love and humanity, and finding out what it truly feels like to be alive."


	2. Chapter One

_Chapter One_

"MARGARET!" The shrill voice of an old woman called. "Where in God's name are the pears? We're going to be late for the market!"

"Coming, grandmother!" the young blonde woman called from the food cellar. She grabbed the remaining pears out of the ceramic bin as fast as she could and chucked then in the basket at her feet. Grabbing the basket, she nearly tripped over the hem of her dress as she clambered up the stairs. She hurried out the bulkhead and toward the wooden cart parked outside her cottage's front door. As she lifted the basket into the cart, the silver locket around her neck slipped out from underneath her collar and bumped her chin. She hastily put it back inside her blouse and ran back toward the food cellar. Hurrying in the opposite direction was her older sister Ariel, carrying a wooden box brimming with apples.

"Oooh, she's in one of her moods," Ariel said as she passed her sister.

"When isn't she in one of her moods?" Margaret replied.

"Yeah, but it looks like this will be an exceptionally bad day," Ariel countered. "I could feel it as soon as the sun rose this morning."

They hurried past each other and continued on with their work. Margaret hurried back down the cellar stairs and hoisted a metal jug of milk off the floor. The milk sloshed around in its container as she carried it up the stairs and back toward the cart.

"Do you need help with that?" Ariel asked as Margaret passed her.

"No, just get the eggs!" Margaret replied. "And hurry, I hear her coming!"

The old, gnarly form of the girls' grandmother appeared in the doorway of the cottage. She leaned on a gnarled, wooden cane that reflected her own shape. Across her back was a tattered pink shawl, and she wore a fierce scowl on her face. She examined her grandchildren with impatience and sneered at them.

"Ten years living with me and you're still a couple of soft, lazy brats!" She screeched, making Margaret cringe.

"We're almost ready, grandmother," Margaret replied, extending a hand to help her grandmother down the stairs.

"I'll be fine, just get those goods ready!" the old woman snapped. Margaret ran back toward the cellar at full speed, and the ancient woman growled in annoyance.

"I have to suffer and get myself down the stairs all because they were too lazy to get ready this morning," she muttered to herself. "Those two brats are going to kill me one of these days."

Ariel placed the box of eggs gently in the cart and turned to help her grandmother. "Margaret's bringing the last of it," she said, grasping her grandmother's hand. "We'll be ready to go shortly."

"Well thank God _one_ of you is prompt!" the old woman snarled as her granddaughter helped her climb into the cart.

Margaret ran back to toward the cart and placed the final box of fruit in the back. She joined her grandmother as her sister mounted the Ponyta that was hooked up to the cart. Ariel clicked her tongue and the Ponyta headed at a steady trot down the dirt road toward the town. After a five-minute ride, the road turned to cobblestone, and buildings appeared on either side of them. They stopped when they got to the edge of the village, and Ariel dismounted. Margaret got on her knees and began handing the goods down to her sister.

"I hate how they don't allow wheeled traffic inside town," Margaret moaned. "It's a long walk to the market, carrying all this stuff."

"Shhh! Stop complaining!" Ariel warned. "Do you want to give grandmother something more to criticize and moan about?"

Margaret grumbled and handed the eggs down to her sister.

"Stay with grandmother, I'll bring these to our stand," Ariel ordered.

"No, you stay, I'll go this time," Margaret insisted, jumping out of the cart.

"All right, but hurry," Ariel said. "I'll finish unloading."

Margaret balanced a box of grapes on top of the pear basket and made her way to the market in the town square. Other farmers and merchants hurried beside her, carrying their various goods in wheelbarrows and baskets. A man in a brown shirt and hat hurried past her, pushing his wheelbarrow full of pumpkins in front of him. A graying woman carrying several spools of yarn caught up to her.

"Good morning Margaret," she said with a pleasant smile. "Fine sunshine we have today, don't we? Perfect for ripening my tomatoes!"

"Yes Louise, it is," Margaret said, smiling back. "What do you have today?"

"Mareep wool," Louise replied. "Several of my Mareep shed on Sunday. Just got finished spinning last night."

"That's good news," Margaret said. "Maybe that's a sign that ours will shed soon too."

"Let's hope," Louise said. When they reached the town square, she bid Margaret farewell and headed toward her market stand.

The square was brimming with people setting up their goods to sell. The vineyard owner and his wife unloaded their bottles of red wine from their boxes and set them up for display. The baker busied himself opening up his shop, shouting to his wife to finish the cakes and help him with the bread. A couple of vegetable farmers with their early crops brushed the dirt and dust off their stand and prepared to set up.

When Margaret found her family's stall, she quickly pushed the fruit underneath the counter and hurried back toward the town entrance. The hot August sun beat down on her shoulders as she made her way back to the cart. Her grandmother looked more impatient than ever, and snapped, "I'll watch the food, you two just hurry and set up before we miss all the customers!"

Ariel sighed in fearful annoyance as she handed Margaret two more baskets and hoisted up the milk jug and box of empty bottles.

"This is going to be a long day," Ariel commented.

When the girls finally finished unloading the cart and setting up their market stall, Margaret helped her grandmother out of the cart and into town while Ariel tied up the Ponyta with the other villagers' Ponytas and Rapidashes.

The girls sighed in relief when they got their grandmother settled behind the stall under an umbrella. They were just in time to catch the first customers coming into town to shop. All around them, people were haggling and bartering with one another as usual, and very soon, the noise in the square became almost too loud to shout over.

It wasn't long before the girls' stall was bustling with customers. A middle-aged man with an eye patch pestered Ariel over the price of milk, and held out an egg.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked, practically shoving the egg against Ariel's nose. "This is a Psyduck egg. You can raise your very own Psyduck, and with a little effort, you can get yourself a Golduck that-"

"Now why in the world would I be interested in a Psyduck?" Ariel asked, pushing the man's hand aside.

"Golducks are invaluable Pokemon," he continued, "they're great for fighting, perfect for any trainer."

"We are not Pokemon trainers," Ariel replied.

"Lower your price, and the egg is yours."

"I said I'm not interested," Ariel persisted. "My price remains five Pokedollars per pint, with or without the Psyduck."

"I'll give you one last offer-"

"Are you deaf?" Margaret asked. "We're not interested! Now just pay the five Pokedollars."

"Well, I guess I will just have to look elsewhere," he said, pointing his nose in the air and strutting off.

"He'll be back," Ariel mumbled, "he won't find milk cheaper than that."

Their next customer was a young woman with long, brown hair in grey pants and a tan shirt. In one arm she carried an empty basket, and in the other hand was her small moneybag. She looked to be around twenty, the same age as Margaret, but her brown eyes showed the troubles and concerns of a woman twice her age. Her clothes were dusty, and her low boots were worn and mud-stained. She smiled at Margaret and set her basket on the counter.

"Hello Sara," said Margaret, "what can we get for you today?"

"I need six eggs," Sara replied.

Margaret nodded and disappeared behind the counter. She emerged a few seconds later with six eggs in her white apron.

"That'll be seven Pokedollars please," she said.

Sara's eyes widened. "That's a bit high, isn't it?"

"Prices change with the times," Margaret replied, "I'm sorry, but we really can't sell for less than that. Life is getting expensive. As it is, gasoline is still too expensive for any of us to afford to own a car."

Sara sighed and conceded, placing seven Pokedollars on the counter. Ariel took the money and added it to her family's moneybag while Margaret loaded the eggs into Sara's basket.

"Nothing to sell today?" Margaret asked.

"I'm afraid not," Sara replied, "none of our vegetables have ripened yet."

"Well that's because you don't grow enough of them," the grandmother croaked, wagging a finger at the girl. "When are you and your father going to realize that you can't live off of a pathetic little garden?"

"We have limited resources, ma'am," Sara replied. "We do the best we can, nothing more, nothing less." She smiled at Margaret again, bid farewell, and disappeared into the square.

"That child is so strange," the grandmother hissed. "For all their famed brilliance, those two have no brains or common sense."

"They're not farmers," Margaret said. "They don't see things as we do."

"Heh," the grandmother said with a roll of her eyes, "it's a wonder they've lasted this long. They're barely scraping by as it is. I don't know how much longer they'll last if they don't get their act together."

"I heard that Raphael is helping them out," Ariel commented.

"No way!" Margaret cried in astonishment.

Ariel nodded. "Yep. I've heard that he's been loaning them money and such."

"Typical," the grandmother grumbled, "he helps out some but not others. He's a spoiled brat and should be driven out of our town."

"Now grandmother," Ariel said, "I'm sure he's a very pleasant man. Every girl in town wants him. He's so cute!"

"But he doesn't seem to be interested in any of them," Margaret said.

"Yeah, and you know why?" Ariel asked.

"Why?"

"Because," Ariel continued, "I heard that he has his eyes set on Sara."

"Now that's a bit outrageous," Margaret scoffed in disbelief.

"Believe what you want, but that's what the rumors say," Ariel replied. "And it makes sense, doesn't it?"

"If they'd just quit their stupid 'research' and started paying attention to more important things, they wouldn't need loans from Raphael," their grandmother said, waving her cane in the air. "You girls take note of this. Sara is the last girl you want to end up like." She looked down the street and added, "now stop gabbing, we have customers coming."

As Margaret and Ariel waited on their customers, the little bell on the door of the bakery rang as Sara entered. The baker's wife hurried to the counter to greet her.

"Good morning Sara," she said, "what'll it be today?"

"Just a loaf of bread, please," Sara said.

"The least expensive one, I presume?" the baker's wife asked.

"Yes please,"

The woman climbed the ladder and pulled a loaf of bread off the top shelf. "How is your father this morning?" she asked.

"He's fine thank you," Sara answered. "I think he's finally getting over that bug he caught."

"I'm glad it wasn't serious," the woman said, placing the bread on the counter. "Two Pokedollars please."

Sara handed her the money and took the bread. The baker's wife waved goodbye as she exited the shop.

Sara reached into her pants pocket and pulled out the scrap of paper that was her shopping list. She scanned it a few times, put it away, and headed back into the market. In the middle of the square, a large stone fountain bubbled with fresh spring water. A shepherd ran frantically around the fountain, trying to keep his flock of Mareep from getting separated and lost in the crowd. He waved his crook at them, and his Arcanine barked and herded the Mareep together. Sara took care to walk around all the Mareep, and held her basket over her head in an effort to prevent a Mareep from taking a bite out of her bread as she passed.

As Sara continued to shop, a young man approached the entrance to the town. He traveled in a red convertible car, and he coughed as the wheels kicked up dust in his face. In the passenger seat, his Ninetales shielded her face from the dust with her paws. Just before the street turned to cobblestone, he parked his car on the side of the road and got out. Realizing that they were at their destination, the Ninetales hopped out over the door and sat by her master's feet.

The man tossed his black hair back in an attempt to shake the road dust out of it. He brushed the dust off his red velvet suit and straightened his coat. He looked over at the horse Pokemon tied up by the village entrance and rolled his eyes.

"Amazing, isn't it?" he said to his Ninetales. "While the rest of the world is living in a technological, automotive age, these hicks are still using the horse and buggy." He laughed in disbelief and shook his head. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a Poke Ball. He threw it on the ground and released the Pokemon inside.

"Hitmonchan, guard the car," he ordered. "I don't want any of these primitive hicks trying to steal it."

The Hitmonchan nodded and readied itself for battle. The man put his hands in his pants pockets and strolled into the village. He cringed when the smell of farm animals and the crowded street filled his nose. The noise of the market both amazed and annoyed him. This was just what he needed on a fine morning like this, a street full of smelly, noisy farmers. Normally he wouldn't be caught dead among people like this, but there was a very special reason he was a regular visitor here.

As he strolled down the sidewalk, about a dozen Combusken and Torchics scrambled by, and the man had to jump to the side to avoid them. They clucked and squawked as they clambered past, and a man in a brown tunic and pants followed, waving a stick at them and shouting "hey hey hey!" A little ways behind the farmer, a little Torchic ran after him as fast as its little legs could carry it.

Just as the young man was about to continue on, he ran head-on into a smaller man a little older than himself. He swore and looked down to see whom he had run into.

"Ah boss, there you are!" the little man said, flattening his clothes. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

The young man sighed. "What do you want now, Maurice? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Uh, no- I mean, yessir. And I'll make this quick, Raphael sir."

Raphael scanned the surrounding crowd, and Maurice wondered if he was even listening to him. Raphael then turned to glare at him and barked "well, get on with it!"

"Ah, yes sir," Maurice stuttered, "I have a message from Giovanni. Those Ultra Balls you ordered have come in, and-"

"Great," Raphael said, cutting off Maurice, "I'll pick them up later today."

"Oh good," Maurice said, "and he also told me that he needs to talk to you about something-"

"Later," Raphael said, growing impatient, "I have other things I need to do."

"But sir, it sounded important-"

"Tell my father," Raphael said, "that I will be home tonight, and that whatever is so damn urgent is just going to have to wait until then."

"Yes sir," Maurice whimpered.

"Now if you'll excuse me," Raphael said, "I have a friend to catch up with."

"Oh? Who?" Maurice asked.

"Who else?" Raphael said with a sly smile.

"The researcher's daughter?" Maurice exclaimed. Raphael started walking away, and Maurice followed.

"Yes Maurice, the researcher's daughter," Raphael replied.

"I didn't think she was interested," Maurice said. "I mean, you've been courting her for how long now?"

"Watch your mouth," Raphael snapped, glaring dangerously at the little man. Maurice cowered in fear.

"Sorry sir," he said. "I was just curious, that's all."

"Hmph," said Raphael. "If you must know, I'm going on three years now."

"Why has it taken this long?" Maurice asked. "I mean, every girl in town would turn sterile if you so much as smiled at them, let alone asked them to marry you. Why don't you court one of them instead?"

"Because," Raphael growled, "the researcher's daughter is the most beautiful girl in this and every other town I've been to."

"Well, yeah, but there are plenty of other pretty girls," Maurice replied.

"But only she is pretty enough to be worthy of me," Raphael countered. "And besides, I need a woman with spirit. She's stubborn, willful, and proud to a fault. I need a woman with brains, not some country bumpkin."

"She must not have that many brains, if she keeps rejecting you," Maurice laughed.

Enraged, Raphael grabbed Maurice by the collar and pulled it tight. "Bite your tongue!" He barked. "One of these days, I may not be so forgiving. If you dare to talk about my girl that way again, I swear on my mother's grave that I'll make your life miserable until the day you die. Understand?"

"Yes sir" Maurice gasped.

Still furious, Raphael let go of Maurice and continued through the square. After an awkward silence, Maurice spoke up.

"But still," he said, "how long do you think it's going to take to get her to say 'yes'?"

"Does it matter?" Raphael asked. "She'll come to her senses and see things my way eventually, and that's all that matters. I'll just keep courting her until she does."

"Yeah, whatever you say, boss," Maurice said.

"Maurice," Raphael said testily, suddenly stopping. "Don't you have other things to do today?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Then go do them!" Raphael snapped.

"I get the hint," Maurice said, "nice talking to you, sir." He scurried away, and at last Raphael was alone. Ahead of him, he saw his girl buying some cheese from a market stall.

"There she is, Ninetales," he said airily, "and she looks more radiant than ever, doesn't she?"

"_Nine_!" the Ninetales said in agreement.

Raphael straightened up, fixed his hair and coat, and cleared his throat. "Here we go," he said. He held his hands behind his back and strutted toward the girl.

Sara didn't even see him coming, and jumped when she turned around and saw him standing right in front of her.

"I'm sorry," Raphael said, "did I frighten you?"

"Just startled," Sara replied.

"I'm glad," Raphael said with a smile, "I wouldn't want to frighten my sweet Sara away."

Sara groaned and rolled her eyes. She attempted to walk around him, but he stepped to the side and blocked her way.

"Raphael, please let me by," Sara said, "I must be going."

"Off so soon?" Raphael said, continuing to smile. "Why don't you stay and chat with me a while?"

"I have work to do," Sara replied, her tone and expression darkening.

"I'm sure it can wait," Raphael said.

Sara groaned and tried to push him aside, but he grabbed her shoulder and pushed her back in front of him.

"Let me pass," said Sara.

"How long is it going to take to get you to like me?" Raphael asked, struggling to maintain his smile.

"Until the day after forever," Sara hissed, "now move aside."

When he didn't move, Sara turned around and walked away from him. To her revulsion, he followed, strutting along beside her.

"You know," Raphael continued, "I have psychic powers. Through my clairvoyance I can see that you are attracted to me, but are just too proud to admit it."

"You're psychic all right," Sara retaliated, "but I wouldn't go so far as clairvoyant. If you could truly see my feelings, you'd know that the mere sight of you sickens me."

"Now now Sara," Raphael laughed, "you're just playing hard to get."

"No, I'm trying to get you to leave me alone," said Sara.

"Oh come on Sara," Raphael pleaded, his smile vanishing, "why won't you consider my offer? We were childhood friends. We were practically inseparable for the first seven years of our lives."

"That was a long time ago," Sara replied, "before you turned into the arrogant pig you are now."

"We're perfect for each other," Raphael pleaded, "come on, admit it."

"No."

"It really is a smart match you know," Raphael continued. "Cloning research is expensive, and you and your father are barely scraping by. You need a wealthy patron, and I need a wife with beauty and spirit, both of which you have in abundance."

"You're wasting your breath," Sara replied, looking in the opposite direction of her suitor. "You have asked me to marry you at least a hundred times, and each time I have said 'no'. And it looks like I will have to say 'no' to you yet again."

"You'll come to your senses eventually," Raphael said darkly. "And remember, my dear Sara, that without my continued generosity, your pathetic little laboratory would cease to exist. You're in my debt, and one of these days I will call upon you to repay that debt."

Sara stopped and spun around to glare fiercely at him. "I did not ask for your generosity," she growled. "I owe you nothing."

She spun around again and walked as fast as she could back toward the town entrance.

"I'll get through to you!" Raphael called, heading towards her. "You'll see! Someday we'll be married!"

Sara quickened her pace and crossed the street. Raphael attempted to follow, but jumped back when he heard a man shout "make way for Mareep!"

Seconds later, a flock of Mareep trotted down the street, baaing loudly. Raphael searched for a way across, but there was no way around the herd. He tried to keep Sara in his sights, but she was disappearing fast into the crowd.

The shepherd's Arcanine was at the tail end of the flock, barking and herding them along. Behind the Arcanine, the shepherd jogged after them, waving his crook and continuing to shout to the people in the street. By the time Raphael was finally able to cross the street, Sara was gone.

Raphael growled to himself. "I'll have you for my wife," he muttered. "You're too stubborn for your own good, but I'll break you. Make no mistake about that!"


End file.
